


show me how you do that trick

by fuscience



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU: Just Like Heaven, F/M, established Nyssa Al Ghul/Sara Lance, mentioned Tommy Merlyn/Laurel Lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1488067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuscience/pseuds/fuscience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity Smoak sneaks up on Oliver Queen like nothing he's ever expected and everything he's never deserved.</p><p>Or, she's literally the ghost that haunts him and Oliver slowly finds out he really doesn't want her walking into any bright light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	show me how you do that trick

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from lyrics of “Just Like Heaven” by the Cure, which is also the name of the movie this is based on! (very loosely, very, very loosely)
> 
> plot semi-follows canon, semi-follows Just Like Heaven with elements of both woven together, but I hope this is a new experience for anyone who’s watched the movie (and, of course, Arrow).
> 
> for those wondering in case it's not made clear throughout the story (i hope it is though): Sara never ended up on the island, was rescued by Ivo and somehow ended up in the League. She came back to Starling with Nyssa, but no one outside of a small nuclear group are aware of her survival.

He comes back to Starling on a Wednesday, with the sun shining so bright Oliver can feel the muscles under his temple begin to pound and ache in a banal, unfamiliar way - brought about by stress not related to life-or-death situations. He comes back to a small group, mostly strangers, but for his mom and sister who rush to hug him - the urge to flinch is strong, but self-control is something Oliver likes to believe he's mastered.

 

Everyone's happy he's back, it's a miracle they say - that he survived the impossible for so long when no one else had even made it off the boat.

 

"Yes." He affirms - no one else survived the boat capsizing and, to be honest, Oliver's not really sure he did either.

 

* * *

 

 

"Oliver Queen has been back in my life all of two weeks and he's already beer buzzed. You are most certainly my best friend."

 

Tommy flops down next to Oliver, a mess of boyish limbs, before swinging an arm over his friend's shoulder and pulling him closer, letting Oliver's head comes to rest gently on his chest. Oliver doesn't really pay attention, Tommy's voice is white noise in the background, waxing on about old times and how great it is to have Oliver back, even if that means his couch is permanently taken and Laurel doesn't come over - at all.

 

"But you know man. Bros returning from involuntary island vacations over lawyer girls who are perfect for me and quite possibly my soulmate."

 

There's another throb in his head, a pain that is becoming a new constant in his life since the return. Oliver wants to smile at Tommy's jokes so badly, but can't seem to muster it, can't even seem to get his eyes focused on the Starling National's game currently on T.V. - his favorite team, five years ago.  Instead, all he feels is the smooth leather of the couch that has been his bed and the way it refuses to yield to any part of his body - uncomfortably stiff. Tommy had been so important to him once upon a time, not that he still isnt, it just seems like everything's out of place since coming home - relationships, people, couches - everything moved on without him and Oliver is struggling to find where he belongs or even if he does. Laurel and Tommy are happy together and a part of Oliver is happy for them, but a darker part hates them for being so complete and whole while he's floundering around in this new world with pieces of himself still stuck on that island. He'd only ended up on Tommy's couch because his first night home he'd attempted to murder his own mother. Oliver can still feel how her windpipe compressed under his fingers and how her eyes bulged in fear - fear of her own son - before clouding over with sadness when he had crawled away like a wounded animal.

 

The island had undoubtedly done a serious number on him - nightmares of his father's body picked apart by birds, buried under the pebbled rocks, Shado going limp and bleeding out on the forest floor, Slade's maddening yells, and, his own torturous acts for the Bratva in Russia. The scars on his body hurt no matter how well they'd physically healed. There had been a purpose to returning to Starling City, but the moment Oliver's feet had touched his hometown concrete all he'd wanted to do is bury his head in the sand and forget.

 

Oliver's lip curls angrily in self-hate and he fingers the notebook hidden underneath his robe, before giving Tommy a dead stare and mumbling, "You're couch sucks ass."

 

And that's how, after only weeks at his best friend's place, Oliver found himself forced into apartment hunting.

 

( _"It's not healthy man, sitting around all day, and you can't just insult Betty like that - she was my first."_

_"Your first?"_

_"First couch. Laurel gave her to me. Now, go find a new place, and, heads up, I happen to know a girl who knows a girl who knows a girl you should totally meet. We'll figure this out - I think a place to yourself might be exactly what you need.")_

 

Oliver semi-agreed with Tommy on that point - solitary living might be for the best until he figures out how to function in society without attempting to murder them. On the other hand, he had no intention whatsoever of going on any date Tommy felt the need to set up. It wasn't happening. He was going to find a couch, sit his ass down with more alcohol than he'd consumed in years and not move for the next decade while he sorted through the trauma his father had caused him.

* * *

 

 

The real estate agent walks ahead of him, a skinny beanstalk of a boy, with evenly cut hair and a neat suit, nervously pointing out the obscene amount of room in this loft and the high rise windows and the crown molding and new appliances - Oliver simply makes a bee line to the couch and sits down with a disturbing plop. His butt sinks into the couch, dipping deeper and deeper until he's suddenly struggling to release himself from the brown suede. Noticing his trouble the agent swiftly comes over trying to help only to pull them both deeper into the couch as Oliver's muscle alone weighs more than the realtor soaking wet. With the guy's elbow digging into his back all Oliver can mutter is a frustrated, "Next".

 

They visit several more apartments and condos with little sucess.

 

There's a tranquility themed one that Oliver suspiciously suspects his mother had put on the list of potential places.

 

"Where's the couch?"

 

"Well, there's this nice tranquility garden, it comes furnished with the rake and you sit on the pillows over here."

 

"Okay, but where's the couch?"

 

An Art Deco one that Tommy probably added because it's absolutely, fucking ridiculous.

 

"And here's the couch."

 

"That's not a couch - it's a - I don't know what it is, but it's not a couch."

 

It was in fact an artists rendition of the 1950's color television movement - hard red plastic material shaped into the form of a wide U to represent the ability of color in motion to better encompass America's media.

 

They looked at condos and duplexes, apartments and houses that ranged from pompous asshole to gutter rat in decorative choices before finally giving up for the day as none were suitable. The once-enthusiastic realtor stood before him with shoulders slumped and Oliver felt a twinge of sympathy before tentatively clapping the young man on the back.

 

They would try again.

 

* * *

 

Felicity Smoak is quite brilliant at her job. She exceeds expectations in all areas so, it's no surprise to _her_ that when Mr. Steele hands her a notebook full of names and asks her to investigate his wife she turns up a little more information than he had hoped.  It does surprise the people who kill her. Walter had told her to be careful, that other men had died who'd seen this information, but Felicity had merely licked her lips nervously, fingers twitching, before making an awkward quip about being a woman. She should've taken his warnings more seriously.

 

This is how Felicity spends her last hours: compiling a list of bank accounts, transfers, documents on Merlyn Globals research & development, and attempting to reach deeper into the systems with no avail - direct contact with the main server would be the only way she was ever cracking these security codes.

 

Before that, though, she's in the women's restroom being reminded of how utterly alone she is in life:

 

"Henry keeps pushing me for kids and I just don't know how to tell him that I'm not ready - I can barely keep up with myself let alone someone with ten times my energy." One of the junior techs is washing her hands, chatting up the floor supervisor who's applying lipstick. Everyone's leaving for the day - off to their children and spouses and significant others which Felicity has none of. Her hands clench together under the running water, before slowly washing away the suds of soap.

 

"Ha! Well at least you're out of the dating scene. There are no more fish left in this sea - just Sharks and Sea Cucumbers." They laugh at their mutual woes and Felicity thinks she'll stay late at work tonight.

 

It's nearly eight o clock before she hits a dead end with Walter's investigation - metaphorically.  There's nothing more she can pull up on Moira Queen or Merlyn Global from this computer, but there's enough to tell her that she can't stop looking. A bank account, a shell company, and a warehouse - all under the table - in Moira Queen's name, but that's not the most foreboding part. It's not who set it all up that frightens her ( _as scary as Mrs. Queen is_ ) it's who's withdrawing - Malcolm Merlyn -  and his apparent web of money ensnaring a long list of people (who not so coincidentally match up with those in the small leather-bound notebook she was handed).Felicity creates a digital and paper dossier of all her files, before leaning back in her standard office chair, feeling the world shift slightly. She stares at the speckled ceiling titles and decides what her next step will be.

* * *

 

 

Slipping out, Felicity leaves a note for Walter indicating where he could find the file she'd already created and encrypted. She had left the notebook hidden in her office, slowly unscrewing the panel to the vent, pen clenched between her teeth in concentration, before carefully placing all those names inside. Felicity understands the implications of all that's she's found in the past three hours, how important and how dangerous this is ( _and how much more probably lays outside of what little she's uncovered_ ), but she's never been one to let fear stop her from doing the right thing.

 

Her car is too conspicuous, a red MINI is fairly identifiable. So, Felicity stands on the curb waiting for an available taxi to see her waving hand - one pulls up almost immediately, the driver looking at her questioningly before she slips into the backseat. The chorus to Queen's Under Pressure sounds off in the tiny space and Felicity reaches for it, answering only once she sees Sara's caller id. She'd been neglecting her friend - a bad thing to do considering what Sara had returned from less than six months ago. Years missing at sea only to secretly return toting a dark-haired girlfriend who looked like she had homicidal tendencies as well as several hundred new scars and a new identity meant Sara could use a friend or two while adjusting back to life in Starling City. They'd met freshman year of college and Sara had found her rambling, overly-intelligent classmate amusing, just as Felicity had found the cop's daughter who hung with billionaires strangely, eccentric. It had worked in one of those unexpected ways and they'd been friends until Sara's untimely disappearance and supposed death aboard the Queen's Gambit.

 

"Felicity, you have a date tonight."

 

Oh, right - that. She internally cringes and externally frowns. It's not that Felicity isn't interested in having a relationship or that she doesn't trust Sara's taste - men, women, Sara can find the hottest ass within 15 feet of her. It's just the people Sara chooses aren't always the most... mentally stable ( _there was a lacrosse player sophomore year that they really don't talk about_ ) and she's also pretty sure lives depend on her current task.

 

"I'm so, so, so sorry. It completely slipped my mind."

 

"Felicity - "

 

"Look, tell him I'm very sorry, I got held up at work, and see if we can reschedule."

 

Felicity can hear the deep sigh her friend releases and a small, guilty part of her feels bad for the dissapointment she's causing.

 

"He's late too anyway. I'll see you later, yeah?" Sara asks, resigned.

 

"Of course." The taxi comes to a stop and Felicity looks up to see the intimidating stature of Merlyn Global headquarters. She probably should have thought this through more.

 

* * *

 

 

Sara sighs again, looking down at the phone and wincing as Nyssa pulls the last of her stitches together.

 

"You're female friend is not coming tonight I assume?"

 

Nyssa's voice is low and monotonous, but Sara can pick out the underlying thread of concern.

 

"No." She grumbles.

 

The dark-haired assasin stands and wipes off her blood-stained hands on a towel. "You cannot fix you're friends with a simple meeting."

 

Sara brings a pale hand up to her beloved's face, thumbing away a streak of dirt leftover from their night time patrol. "No, but you can fix it with love."

 

* * *

 

She definitely didn't think this through.

 

Getting into the building wasn't enough, Felicity needed to be touching the home of Merlyn's internal servers to uncover anymore information - she needs to reach the heart of the internal network. There's a nice set of benches outside the building that Felicity sits down on - their comfortable enough in the way that says 'please sit down but not for too long.' Pulling up the schematics for the skyscraper she looks for any holes in security, anything easily overlooked... Like, alarms on fire stairwells. It's not too difficult, but it does take some time and next thing she knows she's electronically opening a door to the side of the building - heart in her throat, waiting for the bells to go off. They don't. Letting out the breath she was holding, Felicity begins her trek up the stairs, tablet held close to her chest. The guards run on rotation and she'll have approximately one minute to slip into the hallway on the sixty-first floor between shift changes and make her way to  the server room where she'll be able to understand exactly what Merlyn is up to and how it's related to Moira Queen, her husband's death, and the attempted murder on her son. It's a lot for an iT girl to think about. Her brain might have exploded were it not so abnormally big.

 

She cracks open the door to the correct floor, double checking the numbers, and opens up the security camera feed on her tablet - watching the current guards get ready to leave for the night. The new set of buff security walks past the door Felicity's hiding behind and she swears they can probably hear her heart beating.

 

It's time. The guards converge in a small room further down the hall, talking and ignoring the security cameras for a moment, while Felicity walks calmly by them, avoiding as many as she can. Then she, of course, falls - tripping over her own two feet and while the guards aren't paying attention to movement no one can miss the sound of her screech as her elbow hits the floor. Jumping up and praying her tablet is okay, Felicity attempts to blindly run through the corridors to avoid the feet she can hear now tramping to her location. It's to no avail and soon she's cornered in the hallway outside an executive's office, backing up cautiously from the burly men who look like they might jump her at any moment. Everything's gone to shit and Felicity is unbelievably angry at herself, at Malcolm Merlyn, at Mr. Steele and Moira Queen and for these stupid guards who couldn't be just a little more dumb and ignore her shout of pain.

 

To everyone's surprise, Tommy Merlyn rounds the corner like a knight in shining armor ( _or a billionaire in black Gucci_ ), slipping lazily between her and his own employees.

 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!  Gentlemen - is this anyway to treat a lady?" Tommy had taken in the sight of a visibly distressed woman being crowded around by men, all twice her size, and immediately decided to intervene. He's not sure what's going on, but situations like this don't typically end well - Laurel had made him watch her lawyer videos and he's seen Dateline _and_ Law  & Order:SVU. The hired help back up immediately and one tips his hat politely at the young heir before taking command.

 

"Mr. Merlyn - we found her wandering the hallways suspiciously with no visible employee badge and when we attempted to stop her she ran."

 

His eyes flick towards the petite woman, clutching an electronic to her chest like it will somehow shield her from her current situation. He smiles at her, attempting comfort, but Laurel's told him time and time again he either comes off as teasing or lecherous - not sure which one it is this time, but since there's no visible relaxation from the blonde Tommy decides to turn his attention back to the guards.

 

"I'm sure she has a good reason for being up here and, personally, I'd run if I saw you chasing me too." His hands go up placatingly as the guards seem befuddled by his words, "Look, I'll personally make sure she gets where she needs to be and if anyone gives you trouble about this you can refer them to me - Tommy Merlyn, guy with his name on the side of the building."

 

Interestingly enough, the scared woman stiffens up more - if that's even possible at his statement. Interesting indeed. The group of men disperse, cautiously returning to their post, and leaving him alone with her.

 

"You do have one, right?"

 

Felicity looks at Tommy Merlyn's face, open and teasing, with confusion.

 

"A reason?"

 

"Oh!" Her hand flies up to cover her mouth and she internally debates between lying and telling the truth - like most people Felicity ends up somewhere in the middle. "Yes."

 

There's a beat of silence as he waits for elaboration. "Which would be...?"

 

She bites her lip and it's adorable, but Tommy's a one-woman man now.

 

"I can't tell you. I... You're friends with Oliver Queen, right?"

 

"Yeeeeess." He drags the word out, dubious and confused. This is escalating into something more - he thought maybe she was a careless employee or a reporter or even someone looking to sleep with him ( _which obviously is not the case_ ), but the girl is acting like someone's holding a gun to her head with a finger on the trigger.

 

"I need you to let me go and I need you to not ask me where I'm going or what I'm going to do because," Felicity licks her lip soothing the nervous tear she'd ripped, "if you don't a lot of people could get hurt."

 

She watches his face twist in thought and thinks to herself that this totally crazy - she could be a corporate spy for all he knows and name-dropping his childhood best friend isn't going to help. Maybe he must know something she doesn't or maybe Tommy Merlyn is just that intuitive of a guy, but he gives her one last questioning look before walking away, hand tucks into the pockets of his business suit.

 

Right before he rounds the corner, she sees him wave his hand. Grinning curiously at the strange girl who stands thunderstruck in the hallway,Tommy shouts a warning, "If you get caught again, I won't be here."

 

Once Merlyn's heir is gone and Felicity regains the nerve to move she turns her tablet back on - thankfully unharmed except for a small crack in the top right corner. She manages to find her way to the server room without anymore incidence. It's cold and Felicity should've known this - her entire life revolves around computers - but, tonight, she has no jacket and shivers uncomfortably, hunched over next to the large wall of electronics that is the brain of Merlyn Global. The tablet connect easily enough and she begins to download all the private files, uploading them simultaneously to her home server.

 

There's a light beep and the search pulls up a cache of highly encrypted data, something it had been filtering for on the premise that anything well hidden is probably worth Felicity finding and seeing.

 

She stares curiously at the strange folder, the Undertaking ( _isn't that diabolical - taking the time to name evil plans_ ), and goes to click on it, but there's a sudden pain in the back of her neck and everything goes black. Felicity doesn't read that file.

 

* * *

 

 

Tommy walks out of the building and calls Oliver, considers asking him about the mysterious blonde he'd just left upstairs, but decides there's far more important things to discuss than women with a penchant for getting into trouble.

 

"You'll be there tonight, right? This girl's supposed to be great and there's some people there who'd _really_ love to see you Oliver."

 

There's a grumble, low and incoherent over the phone and Tommy can smell the beer from here - there's a click and a dial tone as Oliver hangs up on him.

 

He sighs, lips pursed, staring at the phone. "I'll take that as a no ."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first multi-chapter story and I swear to god I want to finish it. i’ve got 10,000 words and the next two chapters written, but it still might be a while between updates because I'm super busy until like august (then I'm only marginally busy). this is my baby right now and i hope everyone loves it as much as i do. 
> 
> P.S. Oliver and Felicity meet next chapter. 
> 
> pps. is the length of the chapter good? longer? shorter? I hated them not interacting (at least not really) in the first chapter, but it would've been around 6-7 thousand words otherwise so...


End file.
